Nine Days

You'd be surprised what can happen in only 9 days.  I'm still catching my breath from my last nine days and the adventure is just beginning.

It started the afternoon of Tuesday the 21st.  I checked my email and found out that my return to Israel, which I had been awaiting for roughly a year and a half had to occur immediately - within the week.  I was already planning to go to Kentucky the next day, and didn't want to cancel that trip.  So Tuesday was busy.

I bid a tearful farewell to my boyfriend of one week...

That's us in our snow fort.  If a boy helps you build a snow fort, you know he's a good one.  

...and then spent the rest of the day and most of the night packing EVERYTHING.

Wednesday morning I headed to Kentucky, arriving there that night.

I greatly enjoyed my time with my brother, nephew,

sister-in-law and niece.

The nephew LOVES books.  I read to him quite a bit.  He may not look like he's loving it, but he was.

He also has great taste in transportation. :)

Monday evening I got on a (2 hour delayed) flight from Kentucky to Newark.

Somehow, by God's grace, I still managed to get on my flight to Tel Aviv.  Because I was so late, I didn't even have to go through the full security measures - just a pat down and a cursory carry-on search.

On the plane I enjoyed watching "Horton Hears a Who" and eating curry...  I thought it would be fun to request on of their special meals, for a change.  It was...interesting.

Finally I arrived in Tel Aviv, and in time, a sherut dropped me off at JUC.

I'm afraid I don't really have any pictures in Jerusalem yet.  It's been pouring rain pretty much since I arrived, so that I even try to avoid going to the bathroom as long as possible because it requires a few steps outside. Pictures of rain aren't all that exciting.

But it IS exciting to finally be here.  I'm starting to figure out my place as staff, learning about some of my duties, and it's good.

It's been a crazy nine days, bittersweet in many ways.  Many hard good-byes, but quite a few joyful reunions as well.  That's life.  But God is always good.  

The Eagles are Coming!

"There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?" ~Frodo, Return of the King

Several times over the past semester I have compared my experience at JUC to that of Frodo and Sam at Mount Doom.  I don't mean  to imply that it has been a miserable or traumatic experience.  Certainly there have been elements of misery and trauma as are common in life, but it has been a wonderful blessing to spend two years on this "journey" to my MA.  The point is, though, it has changed me.  It has changed us.  There is a handful of other hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men who have been with me on this journey, some for the full two years, some for slightly less time.  We have traveled together, explored, studied, learned, hiked, swam, endured burning sun and freezing rains and flying rocks, watched sunsets in desert skies, shared meals, shared rooms, laughed together, prayed together, studied the Bible together.  There is something about living in a foreign country where there is the combination of so much ancient history (especially Biblical History) and so much modern conflict.  There seems to be a general consensus: after this, it's going to be hard to fit back into life in the States.

However, fortunately for Frodo and Sam, journeys always have an ending.  This JUC journey is ending for most of my companions.

One more meal together before more departures.

The Eagles are coming and, one by one, taking my friends back to their own little "Shires" where, like Frodo and Sam, they will try to find a place to fit and search out the company of others who have had similar experiences, looking for people who understand, and hoping for many JUC reunions in the years to come.

A few of us help my roommate of two years pack up.

A few of us will still remain after this summer, to continue the journey together.  Our absent companions will be greatly missed, but it is a huge blessing that a few will remain to grow together some more, and to add a few more companions as we journey on.

Separation of Church and State

"Separation of Church and State" is a phrase that is anathema to many Christians in America today, often with good reason.  With the innate religiosity of humanity, complete separation is utterly impossible.  The religious view of politicians will always dictate their decisions, whether they are atheistic humanist, evangelical Christians, or fundamentalist Muslims.  With that in mind, it is also reasonable that people hope to have politicians in power who most closely share their own religious views.  I think sometimes there is the view among American Christians that "If only we could get a good Christian president and a good Christian congress, everything would be okay.  If only the country was run by Christians, we wouldn't be in such a mess."  Of course, non-Christians react strongly against this "ideal" situation, claiming "Separation of Church and State!"  Ignoring the misconceptions and problematic logic of both sides for the moment, I'd like to offer a different view point, gained from living in a state where there is no separation of "church" and state and where the majority of inhabitants of the land are not members of the state religion.

Israel is Jewish state, with all that implies.  Demographically, roughly 74% are considered Jewish.  So far, that doesn't seem like much of a problem.  Sure, there are the Christian and Muslim populations which will be bound to have their problems with the government, but my comments on the system lie elsewhere. 

There are roughly four main branches in Judaism today: Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, and Ultra-Orthodox, listed in order of what we would call least "conservative" to most "conservative."  Between these four there is a broad spectrum of Torah interpretation, and the results of these different interpretations are clearly showcased in the political arena.  

The Chief Rabbinate in Israel, the religious governing authority, is Orthodox.  They specifically have authority over marriage, divorce, and conversion.  This causes problems.  

Imagine for a minute that America did not have a policy forbidding the government to control the church and forbidding the church to control the government.  Instead, let's say that some specific Christian denomination was in control of the government, or some aspects of government.  Just for the sake of illustration let's say its a Baptist denomination. 

So, now, in America, the Baptists are in control of marriage.  Say you are Methodist.  You want to get married.  You go to get a marriage license, only to find that you are required to complete a 6 week premarital counseling class with a  Baptist minister.  Once that is complete, the ceremony has to be done inside a Baptist church, on a Saturday.  You begin to be a bit upset.  

Or perhaps you are agnostic and wanting a divorce.  You apply, only to find out that you must first supply proof that your husband has been unfaithful to you, since that is what is required for a Biblical divorce.  Not only that, but then you also must complete 6 weeks of counseling with a Baptist minister, hoping you'll change your mind.  Then you find out that technically, only the husband can divorce the wife (because in the Bible the man gave the certificate of divorce).  If he refuses to divorce you, you're out of luck.

Maybe you're Catholic and you just adopted a child from China.  You want to get citizenship for them, but then you find out that in order to become an American citizen, they have to convert to the religion of the state: Christianity.  So you go through the process of having them confirmed in the Catholic Church.  You return to apply for citizenship to find out that Catholic conversion doesn't count.  They have to be converted to Baptist.  In addition, if you want to adopt another child and also get citizenship for them, there had better be proof that you're raising your first child as a Baptist, or else your second child will not be allowed to convert to gain citizenship.  

Sounds a bit frustrating, yes?  These are examples of the sorts of things that are faced by the many Jews here who are not Orthodox.  Examples could be multiplied, but I think I have made my point.

The government is probably not the right place to try to enforce religious morality, especially for Christianity.  Brothers and sisters, if we are to impact the world, change must happen one heart at a time.  Using legislation to make people behave as you want them to behave simply doesn't work, as illustrated by the Israeli government.  Frustration and rebellion are the result among those who disagree with your stance, not increased morality.  

I do not write this to say that we should not try to make good laws or elect good officials.  I do write this to say that

1. We should not pin our hopes on the government and

2. Maybe we should be thankful for "separation of church and state" because we might find that whatever religion ended up in control might not be as friendly as we would hope.  

Reflections on past thoughts

Though it's been a while since I've posted much of anything here, it's not from lack of thought. It may be from lack of coherent thought, but I'll try to lay some of my more recent thoughts in order here, for your viewing pleasure.

One thing I've been reflecting on is how much coming here has changed me. For example:

The other day I was reflecting on the time, 11 years ago this month, when I came to Jerusalem for the first time.

I remember visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and one of the members of our group was yelled at by a priest because he supposed his picture had been taken. Looking back, that seems so bizarre. I have since been to the church, numerous times, with numerous people and numerous cameras and have never had any similar incidents. I think it must have been just a fluke - the priest there that day, who was probably also a tourist, was just extra sensitive about pictures or something. I remember that we as a group were a little freaked out about it, though, wondering if that was the norm, wanting not to do anything wrong.

We were so naive, both in our daringness and in our caution. Some of the things we avoided doing out of caution were just as crazy as some of the things we did out of ignorance. Of course, that was pre-intifada. Some things have changed in Jerusalem since then. Nevertheless, it amuses me to remember some of my thoughts from that time.

For another example, the other day I asked one of my friends who started in the master's program here at the same time I did, "Do you ever think about what an idiot you were?" Realizing quickly that it probably wasn't the most tactful question, I started to back-track and explain. Fortunately, he realized what I was getting at and a terrible misunderstanding was avoided. The thing is, looking back, I remember all sorts of little thoughts and expectation and ideas that I had about the world and Israel and even higher education, and slowly but surely, those ideas have been almost imperceptibly changed. Yet looking back, the change is dramatic. Ideas of what is safe and what isn't have been revised as experience has informed my knowledge. Experiences that were once new and strange have become part of daily life. Which is not to say that I feel utterly independent and capable of living here indefinitely, but I am closer.

In a similar way, it's interesting to talk to the semester students or other people who arrived here a relatively short time ago. I hear some of the thoughts that I used to think about Israel coming out of their mouth. I myself have only been here about a year, but that has been long enough to dramatically change the way I think, in some areas at least. I consider my past self rather naive, and I daresay that if I continue to stay here, my future self will think the same of my present self. So, every now and then, when I hear some of the semester students talking, I sort of shake my head and smile to myself and wonder at Dr. Wright's and Diane's great patience in putting up with the same stupid questions and actions semester after semester. I'm grateful for it, though.

I suppose this sort of process always happens when one goes to a foreign country. At first everything is new and exciting (or frightening), but after a year or two, things start to settle into a (hopefully) more proper perspective.

I wonder, though, if in some ways this process is more painfully obvious in the holy land. The people who come here are not generally of the sort who travel to learn about food and culture and see the scenery in a different land. That may be part of the package, but most tourists come here for a religious reason, a pilgrimage, more or less. I won't speak for Jews or Muslims or even orthodox Christians, but most Protestants seem to come feeling that they have a knowledge about and connection to the land, something like "This is the place where Jesus lived and I've studied Jesus all my life so I should know something about it." There is an impossibility of separating the land of Israel from the theology of the visitor. While this is not necessarily a bad thing in and of itself, it can often lead to erroneous views being passionately propounded. Rather than taking the time to sit and listen and learn about the land from the inhabitants (as I assume one would do in any other country one visited) people tend to take hard and fast stands, such as: "Israel has the right to exist and should push all the Palestinians out," or "Israel is an oppressive government and the Palestinians deserve their own country," or "No one in the Orthodox Church can possibly be actually saved," or "Of course Archaeology proves/disproves [you choose] the Bible!" for a few examples. Armed with these and other immutable ideas, evangelicals descend upon the "Holy Land" and wreak all sorts of havoc. It doesn't help that no matter what inflexible stance someone takes, there will be someone here with a stance that is diametrically opposed, possibly even in the same tour group.

To my shame, such opinions may have not differed so very much from my own not long ago. If nothing else, my time here has emphasized to me the importance of listening to all sides of a story before forming an opinion, and, even once some sort opinion has been formed, to be very careful, tactful, and reasonable in expressing it. I don't wish to imply that it is wrong to ever take a stand, but there are times when it is wiser to be slow to decide.